Weapons of War
by Naburi
Summary: Allied and revived for the Fourth Shinobi World War as the ultimate weapon to destroy Madara Uchiha, Heiwa of the same bloodline is convinced to change allies in hopes to win the war for being the only friend left Tobi trusted for having died before the incident with Rin's death. Little did they know, bringing back a dead lover surely is not a good thing.
1. Weapons of War

Her slender hands cut off his air supply as he gasps, trying to breathe from the deadly grip she has over his throat. Yet even then, he still manages to choke out a chuckle, the serpentine eyes he's acquired from Orochimaru's DNA crinkling in amusement.

"Heiwa," he forces out to command. "H-Heiwa, _let go_."

Beneath the long locks of her dark hair, the dangerous kekkei genkai in her eyes spins in threatening activation as they narrow with her sclera dark in color. There are evident marks across her right eye marring her features, but it's not enough to cover the faint tear troughs beneath her eyes and the frighteningly cold look she has on him right that moment.

"H-Heiwa—"

She shoves him against the wall with harsh brutality and it takes all effort in him not to cry out. He almost sighs in relief when she suddenly lets him go, despite involuntarily crashing down. He barely stands his ground as he coughs back the air that's once lost in his lungs, now holding onto his now bruised throat with a slouched posture.

"Who are you?" She looks down on him, not a look with anything across her dead eyes.

As he looks up at her, he sees the same eyes of her dead brother. They have the same look, and it's frightening how similar they are.

Or at least, _were_.

"I'm the one who brought you back . . ." he coughs, warily looking over at her, as if afraid that somehow she'd have him by the throat again if not worser than that. "You're supposed to be dead, Heiwa, like Fugaku and Mikoto, but I brought you back here . . ."

She pauses then before she leans against his ear, and he can't have missed the way a dark look flash before her red eyes. "I said _who are you_?"

He visibly stiffens.

"Kabuto," he hastily answers her now. "Kabuto Yukushi."

She glances at him, and even just a simple action such as that, there's already a threat beneath that red gaze that even Kabuto, despite the control he has over her as the one who resurrected her, is threated by that mere look.

Even in an imperfect form she still releases the same powerful chakra she used to have, fogged with a deadly energy. Orochimaru had always wanted her to be his vessel, to be his weapon and pawn. But even before he can get to her, she already escaped from his grasp by death.

"And what do you want from me, Kabuto?" she whispers and Kabuto forces himself to look like he has the upper hand here, that even though he knows she has much more power over him than her, he's still stronger-even if it's just by word.

"I want to make a war, Heiwa." He forces a smile, but all she does is stare sharply at him, her kekkei genkai deepening in color as they bear onto Kabuto who tries to hide the way he flinched, covering up with an empty smile. "I want to make a Fourth Shinobi World War."


	2. Chapter 2

**A trip to the past. You'll notice that the supposed present tense is written in past tense. Anyways, enjoy the chapter!**

"I'm sorry, Itachi," Heiwa whispered softly against his locked door. She knew he was there, listening to her talk, to say sorry like she always would. He always listened to her, no matter how much she knew he'd already grown tired of her apologies. And as much as it pained her, she hadn't really meant to miss their promised day for an Anbu mission.

She sighed, finally pulling away her hand and herself from his door after a long time of apologizing. It really hadn't been her intention, but as soon-to-be captain, she couldn't turn it down. Not when it was her responsibility, and not when Fugaku's at her back with a threatening glare.

Her obsidian eyes lingered on his door, as if somehow that moment he'd finally open it for her. But there was nothing, and the longer the time stretched, so did the silence. It was only a matter of time before she turned away with a sudden slouched form. And she felt lost. Her otouto had been the only one who could ever make her feel such defeat.

Just when all hopes fell, when she was already a few steps away from leaving, there was a suddenly creak on the door, as if to peek, and then sudden thudded running before a pair of small arms wrapped around her waist behind her, stopping her from walking further away.

"Otouto?" She glanced back to see the smaller body hide away his face on her back.

"Don't go, Nee-san," Itachi quietly mumbled on the back of her shirt, holding onto tighter and burying himself. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to be so spoiled ."

She sighed contently, gently prying off his fingers before she went to her knees and faced him. His face was flushed, a little embarrassed and a little sad at the same time. But there were still the tear troughs she loved beneath those obsidian eyes of his. He took so much after her features that it was almost as if she was the mother instead of Mikoto despite her young age of ten, her maturity making her so much older that she was.

With a soft smile, Heiwa prodded two fingers at him, causing him to stumble back a little before his hands went to his forehead with a whine. She knew he didn't like it when she did it, but she couldn't help but chuckle at his pouting face he probably didn't even realize he was doing.

"Forgive Nee-san, Itachi. Next time," she promised him before kissing his forehead. "Next time."

Although loving her passionate gesture towards him, he whined again, pulling away. "Nee-san . . ."

"Oh?" She smiled, growing amused by him. "Don't you like my kisses anymore, Otouto?"

"I-I'm too old for kisses anymore, Nee-san," Itachi reasoned, although half-lying to himself when he loved it as much as she did when she did it.

"How 'bout my hugs then?" Heiwa suggested with a lazy smile, funnily wiggling her eyebrows before she gave him no choice when she immediately engulfed him in her arms right after she mentioned it. She chuckled at her otouto's attempts on getting away, and she couldn't help but smile and yet feel so sad all of a sudden. Her arms tightened around him as she buried her face further at the crook of his neck.

"N-Nee-san," Itachi tried to catch her attention, softly tapping her back from beneath her arm. "Nee-san, I can't breathe . . ."

"Just a little more," she told him with a faint voice and she could feel him reluctantly hug her back too, unaware. Although only five, her otouto, her little Itachi was already growing so quick. She remembered the time she held him so tight during the Third Shinobi World War. He was so small, so frightened and traumatized by the countless lost lives they'd witnessed together.

_"You're okay. You're fine. Nee-san is here, Itachi. I'm here."_

She swore to protect him then—protect him from everything that can possibly hurt her otouto. She loved him so much, more than she can possibly love her parents.

"Nee-san?" Itachi softly whispered just before she suddenly pulled away with a knowing smile on her face as she put her hands over his shoulders with a gentle squeeze.

"You know, you're going to be a big brother soon, Itachi," Heiwa reminded him with a sly smile. "You can't always be running after me for hugs and kisses."

His face instantly burned. "But, Nee-san, it's always you who-"

"What's going on here?" Fugaku's voice broke them apart, and with one side glance towards their father, all Heiwa's gentle emotions for her otouto suddenly went away in a blink of an eye, replaced by a cold demeanor she'd always used with the man that now stood there.

"Nothing," she curtly said, gently pulling Itachi behind her back as she stood up to her feet. She could easily see the way all her otouto's expression turned gray and dead as their father glanced at him with empty eyes.

"Don't loiter around in the corridor. You should be training to be an exceptional shinobi like your sister, Itachi," Fugaku grunted, narrowing his eyes as his gaze fell upon him again. Itachi, however, hid as a response, burying himself more behind Heiwa's back with a look of fright, and such actions made familiar disappointment, Heiwa knew too well, to take on Fugaku's expression before he turned away to look at her, a look so different from what her otouto received from him.

Heiwa hated those eyes-those obsidian eyes that had always reminded her that _he_ was the reason she was made the way she was, that _he_ was the reason on why she'd come this far as an Anbu. She stared at him, suppressing her dark emotions and quelling the want to give in to the silent anger she felt in the pit of her stomach for the man she called her father.

"Come to my office."

And with that Fugaku finally brushed pass them with one last lingering stare.

As Heiwa looked down towards her otouto, there was a visible look of sadness in his eyes and also shame. She could so easily notice the way he fidgeted from one foot to another. And she could have never missed the way he always looked so broken and empty.

"Don't worry, Itachi," she softly assured him, to at least ease up his rigid form with a soft touch on his small arm. "He didn't mean any of that."

Instead of calming the tension, her otouto flinched away from her as he baby features hardened before he suddenly pulled away from his sister. "You know he did, Nee-san. He . . . He always does."

Without a second word, he then ran away from her. He didn't run to his room though, instead he ran the other way of the corridor. But Heiwa didn't run after him, because she knew he needed space too. After all, he was still only a child. Hearing that kind of words coming out of their own father's mouth probably burned him.

Because it burned her too when Fugaku did the same to her.

It burned more than any fire could.

"Oh my, did you two fight?" Mikoto's surprised voice ripped away Heiwa's lingering gaze onto her otouto's retreating back and there she sees her mother holding a tray of food in her hands. "What happened, Heiwa? You two hardly fight at all."

She sighed with a shake of her head. "It's nothing, Mother."

"Was it because of Fugaku?" Mikoto warily pried with a tone of concern. "He's always rough on that boy. Too much expectation, I suppose. I know you went through that phase, but still . . . No one should go through that."

"I'll take care of him," Heiwa assured her with a small nod her way before then she offered help to Mikoto. After all, pregnant women weren't allowed to carry anything much. They said it was bad for them, as a number of people and women who have already given birth said. Fugaku should know that, and yet he was still ignorant about everything around him including his own wife.

Heiwa glanced at her mother's growing stomach, and for a moment her gaze lingered there longer than it was supposed to. Deep inside there, there was a little sibling waiting to be born just in a few months. It was a little nostalgic, because this wasn't the same on how she felt when Itachi was just inside Mikoto's womb and about to come out.

During Mikoto's pregnancy with Itachi, Heiwa wasn't so much excited to have a sibling-especially if it was going to be a boy. She felt threatened by him, but little did she know that everything would turn out this way, that she'd be afraid to even let go of her otouto when he was learning to walk, even too reluctant to let him hold a pencil afraid he might accidentally stab himself with it.

She was such a worry-wart that she hardly ever let Itachi do anything for himself when he was a baby, and that she spoiled him too much. Yet it wasn't enough for a father's love, she knew.

"Let me, Mother. I'm also going to Father's room," Heiwa offered. It took Mikoto a moment before she finally, although reluctantly, let her daughter take the tray from her hands with a small smile and a thankful nod. "You know, Father shouldn't be so lazy at times . . ."

"_Heiwa_," Mikoto said with a look of uncertainty in her smile. "You know your father's always working hard . . ."

"_Yes_ . . . .for the clan," she mumbled, gaze wandering off to somewhere nothing in particular. Mikoto's gaze remained on her as a look of something unreadable flashed there. "Always for the clan, right, Mother?"

For the first time, Mikoto had nothing to say back to her at all.

"Exceptional as always," the man she despised praised, his voice not quite sounding if he was truly _praising_ her or just merely saying it out of politeness. But Fugaku was never polite. Not when he was with his wife, not when he was with the Hokage or anyone else for that matter. He was always blunt with his words, always speaking his mind because he thought it was better than beating around the bush. "Even exceeding your Anbu companions. But that's no surprise, is it?"

Her eyes drifted from those hateful eyes, dreading those next words she knew he would always say at some point.

"Because, after all, you are my child."

She nodded absently, not even quite gratified from hearing those words anymore like she used to. She had always longed to hear those words come out of his mouth before. But, now, they were nothing more than just words she didn't want to hear anymore.

Truth is, she wasn't such a special child the moment he had laid his eyes on her from the time of her birth.

_A girl_.

Those two words had struck to Fugaku's head like a dysfunctional cord, reverberating in his head and causing only disappointment to wallow his mind. Such a disgrace to become the head of the Uchiha Clan as the first born, such a disgrace to lead his clan.

For that reason she'd been overlooked by her own father just because of her gender and the reason he thought _women_ could never be like _men_. But she wanted his attention. She wanted to shamelessly wear the clan symbol behind her back in front of her father.

She wanted to become acknowledged.

"There is a new mission for you, Heiwa." Fugaku's eyes dropped on her, and she held that gaze unflinchingly. "If you successfully complete this mission, you will officially become the Anbu Captain under the command of the Fourth Hokage."

Yet again she nodded his way with an absent-minded presence. Fugaku probably didn't notice it, or he chose to ignore it, because he didn't do anything about Heiwa's blank mind nor did he say anything on the lack of response he got from her.

For so long, she had wanted to have his proud gaze on her like she had now. But like any other person, realization would dawn on her someday, and it did.

Heiwa looked away from Fugaku.

Because not anymore she wanted any of his praise. She abhored it now. She'd realized then that when you hold too much power beyond your control, too much knowledge beyond your own comprehension, it could be too dangerous.

Because Fugaku took control of her and she let him.

_Not anymore though._

Her gaze burned at him now as Fugaku began to fill her in with information about her new mission. Although half listening, she absorbed every little detail of what he said. Although she hated it, all she did was nod his way.

Like a puppet.

She was a puppet.

But he didn't control her every move anymore. She had a mind of her own.

And it was loyal to Minato Namikaze.

As she slid the shoji door close, the moon was already starting to show itself and the sun was beginning to depart. Shadows littered the corners of the corridor, yet even then she couldn't have missed his presence and she couldn't help but sigh, holding back a smile. The tension in her shoulders because of Fugaku's presence had already lifted away with just having him close by.

"Come out, Itachi," she said softly. "I know you're there."

Instead of answering her, he hid more in the shadows, hoping that at least he could have fooled her into thinking that it was only her imagination. To his dismay, Heiwa approached the shadows. He had to shut his eyes, convinced that if he did so, he'd vanish somehow.

"Itachi, you should wear something warmer," she mumbled as he felt her warm hand caress the side of his cheek. "You're cold."

He finally gave up in hiding and he looked up at her gentle face. He had noticed that there had never been a time she was not nice to him, and that it was _only_ to him. She was always cold, if not indifferent, with others.

Somehow he felt special for it.

Somehow he also felt guilty.

"Are you angry at me, Nee-san?" he asked her, dreading to hear her say yes even though he knew she could never get mad at him for anything.

There was an unsure look in her eyes before she sighed with a sad smile and then she patted him on the head, a gesture so warm he wanted more. But he refrained himself.

"No, Itachi. No," she answered him softly. "How could I ever be to my otouto?"

From the open side of the corridor, the orange glow of the sky illuminated a piece of the hall and reflected to their way. Yet even with such a particular color of happiness and vibrancy, her otouto had a look of sadness and neglect over his face. "He . . . He has always talked on about you, Nee-san."

The statement surprised her and the way he looked back at her now with a face of sorrow onto his baby features, she couldn't help the tight clench in her chest with how he looked at her. He had never mentioned it before although it happened all the time, and hearing him say it now caused a painful smile to come to her lips.

Instead of responding first, Heiwa sat herself on the perched side of corridor and looked over the sky. It was almost nice to have him beside her watch such a beautiful scene, if it weren't for the tension they have now around them. "Am I . . . Am I unpleasant to you?"

She could feel the way he flinched at her question as he continued to stand there at her side, and although she knew he never meant it that way, she also knew he was contemplating whether if she truly _was_. But the longer he contemplated, the longer she was convinced he did, in fact, saw her as . . . _unpleasant_.

"That's not so bad," she mumbled, ignoring the throb in her chest and forcing a smile on her face as she looked at him from the corner of her eyes. "Shinobi . . . usually live as hated people, because they are said to be a problem, Itachi."

His gaze snapped at her as he looked worriedly. "Such . . . Such a way . . ."

He couldn't find the next words after to continue on with what he was going to say. But an expression of regret was enough of an answer. He should have never mentioned such a thing. He should be thanking his Nee-san for always being there for him, when their mother couldn't-most especially when it came to Fugaku. And yet he, towards his beloved sister . . . he just . . .

"Well, to be a top notch is really something to think about, to have strength you have to become isolated and arrogant-although at first you only sought out what you've dreamed for." She finally looked at him with a gentle smile, and the way he saw how she covered up the pain in her eyes clawed at him like a feral animal.

He felt awful.

It was the first time he have ever seen her slip.

"You see, we are unique siblings, otouto. We've always been. But in order to overcome your barriers, you and I have to continue living together, even if it means hating each other," she whispered, a lingering tone of despair in her voice. But she was too good-too good in pretending that he hardly even noticed it at all. "That is what being an elder sibling means."

Itachi had never seen her show any sign of weaknesses before. She was always the independent one, the one everybody relied on, the genius and prodigy, the one with high hopes for, and even their mother had always relied on Heiwa even though she was only ten.

Yet even though he never saw it before now, he knew, somehow, somewhere in that mature and indifferent demeanor, somewhere deep in that wall of a daughter so perfect, she was struggling just as much as he was. And yet he didn't even do anything about it. He watched her. He didn't say a word.

How could he have been so selfish when he was not the only one who was suffering?

"That's why, as an older sibling, when Mother gives birth to our kyoudai, protect our baby sibling," Heiwa told him with the same look she would always give him, a look of warmth and care and love, "not matter what happens and no matter what situation you are in. Because that's what older siblings are for, Itachi. What we are for."

And he could only stare at her, wordlessly. She was always so kind, and he was the insensitive little brother.

Later that night, she tucked him in bed like she always did, sang that same lullaby she hummed him to sleep, not ever mentioning any of what he'd said to her earlier. She continued to be the mature person she was.

She continued to be the loving big sister.

"I'm sorry, Nee-san, for what I said," Itachi whispered just before she pulled away.

"Shhh," she hushed him softly, kissing his forehead, whiping the tear he couldn't hold back from the corner of his left eye. "Go to sleep, Otouto."

He stared at her in the darkness, his small fingers gripping onto the soft bed sheet she'd pulled over him to keep him warmer for the night. "I love you, Nee-san."

He watched as a smile softly come to her lips just before she finally gave one last kiss on his forehead. Her hand was so warm against his that it was almost doubtful that it was all real.

That his Nee-san was real.

"As I love you, Itachi," she whispered in the darkness. "As I love you . . ."

**Note: This is not an Uchihacest. This is just love between siblings, just as Itachi loves Sasuke, nothing more. This may also be the influence Itachi adapted as to how he will act in the near future to Sasuke.**


End file.
